


Rival the Stars

by mamadeb, saraid



Category: Star Wars Episode I: The Phantom Menace
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-09-30
Updated: 2015-09-30
Packaged: 2018-04-24 02:12:44
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 15,355
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4901572
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mamadeb/pseuds/mamadeb, https://archiveofourown.org/users/saraid/pseuds/saraid
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After TPM, Obi-Wan can still feel Qui-Gon, but no one believes him.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Rival the Stars

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote this years ago with mamadeb. It was a good experience.

Obi-Wan stood by the pyre. He watched the flames engulf the form of his Master, and wondered why he never realized the depths of his feelings for the man who had shaped his life before it was too late. He'd been a fool. 

The flames rose and the heat became intense, but he refused to back away, accepting this pain, almost needing it to balance the new one being birthed in his soul. 

Using the Force, he could see across the city if he needed to. 

Looking at a person, he could see inner strength or beauty or the ugliness people tried to hide. 

But now he knew that he'd been blind. 

Fire. 

He stared at the fire. 

Flames warmed and soothed, or raged and destroyed. 

Like the Force itself, fire could be used for good or evil. 

There had been a night, years ago - how many years? He had to think about it. 

Nearly three years now. 

There had been a fire that night, badly needed, almost desperately needed. 

Without closing his eyes, Obi-Wan Kenobi allowed the scorching light of the flames to carry him into the memory that tormented him. 

 

 

It had been the coldest night he'd ever experienced. 

When Senator Terrancka of Fay're Four had been kidnapped from his home, the Jedi Council had, as requested by the planetary government, sent their best team to retrieve him. 

Trapped in the middle portion of their long year-cycle, the planet was basically frozen over. Oceans and land were both crusted with ice. No one moved on Fay're Four during the long night, as the natives called it. 

Which meant that the Senator had been taken by off-worlders or that some faction of his opponents had lost their minds. There wasn't even any help available to the Jedi, which had angered Qui-Gon, though he hid it well. 

Three days into the search, the unrelenting darkness grating on their nerves, the pair was forced to land the hover vehicle they were using to track the kidnappers when the power pack failed. 

There was a spare, but it would require hours to charge up. In the meantime the interior of the hover became unbearably cold, the metal surrounding them leeching the warmth from their bodies. 

"We must find shelter," Qui-Gon told his apprentice calmly, packing them a bag. 

"I've scanned the area, there is a somewhat protected spot two kilometers west," Obi-Wan answered. Although he hadn't been expecting this, his Master expected him to consider all possibilities and prepare for them, so scanning for potential escape routes or shelter was second nature. He received an approving smile for the effort now. 

Bundled up with extra cloaks over heavy parkas of native fur, they left the safety of the hover and walked into the cold. 

Surprisingly, it was beautiful. 

The dark sky sparkled with an abundance of stars, their light undiminished, no city lights to interfere with the view. There were no clouds, no snow. Just the fierce grip of the cold to tell them the danger they were in. 

Walking behind his Master, protected from the scouring wind by the taller, broader form, Obi-Wan thanked the Force, again, for Qui-Gon. 

If his Master had not taken him as Padawan, he would have never seen this planet, or this night. 

The shelter he had found was an outcropping of rock that formed a rough triangle about six feet high, the top open to the sky. Inside there was just enough room to sit side-by-side and start a small fire with the fuel pellets Qui-Gon had packed. They burned hot and long. 

After the fire was started and the rocks around them began to warm slightly - which meant the ice slid off them - Obi-Wan leaned back and tilted his head up to the stars. 

"I've never seen so many," he said, mildly surprised. 

"This is a densely packed galaxy," Qui-Gon agreed, sounding like a teacher. It made Obi-Wan laugh softly, and his Master smiled at him. "I spoke to the Council before the ship powered down. You were busy trying to find us a place to land." He sounded the same as always; calm, collected. Controlled. 

"Yes?" Looking directly at him, Obi-Wan could see no sign of distress, but that did not mean the news was good. 

"Intelligence operatives lead the Council to believe that Senator Terrancka was taken by his own people. There is a faction that has publicly committed themselves to preventing the completion of the trade negotiations that will be brought up in the next session." 

"I see." There was more, he knew." 

"This means that they will be willing to go to desperate lengths to prevent his recovery," Qui-Gon concluded. 

"Including killing him and themselves," Obi-Wan guessed. 

"And anyone who finds them." 

A silence fell. It wasn't broken by anything. The wind was silent, the fuel pellets burned without a crackle. 

It seemed that Obi-Wan could hear the stars twinkle. 

"Dangerous missions are nothing new," he said at last, glad of the warning. 

"There is something new to discuss, Padawan." 

It wasn't the words...the words were just average, everyday words, strung together in a sentence. 

It was the voice that spoke them. 

Sitting up slowly, almost frightened, Obi-Wan considered the voice and felt his master's eyes upon him. 

What could make Qui-Gon sound that way? So ...lost and frightened? 

Never frightened. Not his Master. 

"Something new?" he offered, suddenly unsure. 

"Yes." Moving with the silent grace that was his trademark, Qui-Gon rose to his knees and put his hands on the rock to either side of Obi-Wan's head, framing him. 

"It has taken me many months and long nights of meditation, but this is something I can no longer keep to myself. It is something that must be spoken aloud, if only once, to be accepted." 

"Master..." Reaching with one hand, Obi-Wan touched the taller man's shoulder, felt the tremor there. "What is it?" 

"I love you." Whispered with shame, the words did not seem to bring the older man relief. Yet he said no more, simply watched the younger while Obi-Wan tried to make sense of them. 

"I know that," Obi-Wan said at last, deliberately ignoring the other potential interpretations. The consequences were too overwhelming. 

"I love you, Qui-Gon repeated. The he lowered his head and brushed his cold lips over Obi-Wan's mouth, and the younger man pulled back, bumping his head against the rock, speechless. 

He stared at his Master and Qui-Gon stared at him. 

Then the Jedi Master returned to his seated position, tilting his head back and staring at the stars. 

The silence loomed, grew legs and walked. 

Walked over and took Obi-Wan by the neck and strangled him. 

He couldn't draw a breath. 

"It will not be spoken of again." His Master's voice, easing the grip of the silence, letting him breathe. 

"There is no shame, Obi-Wan, that you do not return what I feel. I am gifted by the Force to feel it, and I will treasure it as my own. Please-" There was a tiny catch in the rich, rumbly voice, "-please do not concern yourself with it." 

 

 

A loud pop from the flames he watched drew the young Jedi from his vision of the past, and the silent fire that burned in his mind's eye was replaced by this fire, and the sight of his master's body, burning. 

He had allowed himself to forget. It had not concerned him past that night. The next day they had tracked down the kidnappers, rescued the Senator, and gone home to Coruscant, to be welcomed with quiet praise that as would have amounted to a parade anywhere else. 

It had never been mentioned between them again. 

He watched the pyre burn to ashes, leaving nothing behind of the body. The cinders had stung his eyes, bringing tears, but now they were dry, drier than they should have been. A hand touched his shoulder as he stared at the smoldering mass in front of him. 

"Obi-Wan, it's time to leave." Apina's voice was soft and gentle, like the feel of her hand. "There is nothing more you can do for him." 

He turned to face her. The slender, dark-skinned woman was as beautiful as ever, a perfect balance of intelligence and strength, just as...he shoved that thought down. She pulled him into her arms. 

"He was my...my Master. He...I'm alone." 

"I'm here, Obi-Wan. And I love you. Remember?" She'd said those words to him so many times in the past year, since they'd become lovers. 

 

 

She'd just become a Jedi Knight herself. She and her Master had had a ceremony to cut off her Padawan braid, and then she'd invited all the newer Knights and older Apprentices to a celebration in one of the small parks that dotted the city-covered planet. 

It had been a rare evening of no responsibilities for all of them, and they'd taken advantage of it. Someone had even provided music and everyone paired off to dance. 

Obi-Wan had been stunned when she'd asked him to join her. Not only was she incredibly beautiful, she was also known as one of the most promising of the knights, having sped through her apprenticeship. And he was still a lowly Padawan and likely to be so for years to come. 

Despite his Master's kind words. 

"I've been watching you, Obi-Wan. I've seen you spar with Master Jinn. No one moves as gracefully - it looks as though you are dancing. I want to dance with you for real." 

He'd blushed and taken her hand, and they moved together to the music. They spent the rest of the evening together. When they weren't dancing, they were laughing and talking, and later, they were holding hands and kissing. Later still, he found himself dancing a different dance in her bedroom, while the lights of Coruscant flickered outside her window. 

He awoke within her arms the next morning. Apina smiled at him, her eyes glowing. "I think I'm falling in love with you, Obi-Wan Kenobi." 

She bent to kiss his lips. He pulled her closer and deepened it, allowing their tongues to meet and wrestle. When they finally parted, he lay back with a sigh. 

"I could fall in love with you, too. I think...I think I have." 

She smiled at him and they made love again. She, more experienced, taught him how to use his hands and mouth to give and take pleasure, and she complimented him on how quickly he learned. That got her tickled. While they were laughing, his communit chimed. 

"Where are you, my Padawan?" It was his Master, his voice unreadable. He checked the time. He was nearly late for a training session. "My apologies, Master. I will be there directly." 

"See that you are." 

Obi-Wan jumped into his clothes, dropped one last kiss on Apina's face and ran out of her quarters, leaving her chuckling in the bed. He arrived at the training arena within minutes. Qui-Gon was already there. 

"Where were you, young Padawan?" 

He couldn't meet his Master's eyes. "I...I was with Apina. We were celebrating..." 

"She's a lovely woman and strong in the Force. Did you enjoy your time with her?" 

Obi-Wan kept his eyes down. "Yes, Master." 

"If you wish, you have my permission to see her again, your duties permitting." 

Obi-Wan gasped. "Master...I'm sorry. I did not mean to hurt you. It will not happen again." He knew how Qui-Gon felt about him, and now he had the gall to throw someone else in his face? How could he do such a thing? 

"You did not hurt me. You cannot hurt me. If she brings you joy, my apprentice, it is enough for me." His Master smiled. "But see that you are not late for training sessions in the future." 

Obi-Wan nodded, and they began to spar. 

 

 

He and Apina did not have many nights together in the months that followed. It wasn't often that both were on Coruscant and both were duty-free. However, he cherished those nights he'd spent in her arms, and they began to speak of forming a love bond once his apprenticeship was over. He still felt odd talking about her to his Master, but Qui-Gon never showed a sign of anything but approval. 

And now he stood in her arms by the remains of the funeral pyre, and she was telling him she loved him, as she had so many times before. It should have felt familiar and comforting. 

Instead he was empty, and she could have been a stranger for all the affect her words had upon him. He pulled her close in an attempt to feel something, but his thoughts were far away and very confused. 

"My love?" 

"Let's go, Apina. I can do nothing more here." 

She smiled sadly. "He was a great Jedi, Obi-Wan, as you will be. You will do him, and me, proud." She took him by the hand and led him to a groundcar, which she directed towards her own quarters. He sat numbly beside her as she drove. 

Like those of many Jedi, Apina's quarters were spare and simple. She had neither need nor desire for material things. Her one luxury was the large bed under her windows and even it was covered only in the simplest sheets and spread. 

Obi-Wan followed her there, joining her as she sat on its edge. She stroked his hair, playing with the apprentice braid. "This will go soon, my love. It should have gone long ago, but your Master..." 

"My Master waited until I was ready." The first emotion he'd felt and it was anger. Quickly, he controlled it as all Jedi must, lest it lead to hatred, as Master Yoda had taught. 

"Of course. I cared for your Master as well. He was a good and wise man, and he trained you to be the best." She spoke soothingly. Her voice rang with honesty...and something else. "Now...let me ease your grief so you can face your trials." 

Their lips met. Hers were warm, skilled and loving, but he felt nothing more than pressure. All passion seemed to be gone, burnt out by that fire. She knew something was wrong and let him go. "My love, he is gone and I am here. Let me take care of you." She gently touched his face, there. 

He jumped, clapping his hand where her fingers had...he could only think "profaned." This was wrong. This was very, very wrong. He ran out of her quarters, listening to her shout "Obi-Wan!" as he did. 

He wandered the city blindly, trusting in the Force to keep him safe. Emotions, new but strangely familiar, coursed through his mind. Had he really been that foolish all those years? 

"No! No! I won't let him go!" His throat burned. 

"Master Jinn's awake! Shush, Master. Lie still." It was an unfamiliar voice, rich and soothing, and his hands were gentle. "You'll open the wounds. The healer's coming." 

Qui-Gon nodded and settled back on his pillows. He pushed the great pain he felt behind his consciousness as he had been trained, and opened his eyes. No, he did not know the man with the long dark curls and the brilliant eyes, but he could sense only goodness in him. It was then, when he reached for the Force, that he realized something was gone. "Where is he? Where is my Padawan?" 

"Obi-Wan is not here, Master Jinn." 

"I cannot sense him. Is he...no!" He struggled to leave the bed, but the nurse would not permit this. Nor did the man have difficulty making him stay. "I must go! Something has happened to my Padawan." 

"You cannot help him in your state, Master Jinn." Qui-Gon turned to see a stately woman, her silver hair piled high on her head, walk to his bed. "You are still recovering." 

"It is just a weakness of the body, Healer. My bond with my Padawan is gone. I must find him." 

"It is more than a weakness. What do you remember last?" 

"We fought the Sith. I...I lost. But Obi-Wan won. Where is he? Why can't I touch our bond?" 

The Healer touched his shoulder. "The bond between a Jedi and his apprentice is broken by two things - an act of will when the apprentice is ready to be on his own or if one of the pair dies. This is something you know, Master Jinn." 

A Jedi is trained to ignore strong emotions such as anger and hatred. Qui-Gon had learned those lessons well as a child brought up by them. Those lessons were forgotten as grief and pain and loss descended upon him like a dark blanket. Obi-Wan dead? It couldn't be. He'd seen him last alive and healthy; he'd touched his warm, beautiful face. Desperately, he reached for some last remnant of him in his mind, and found nothing there but emptiness. As a tear streaked down his face, he gazed at the Healer. "How? How did Obi-Wan die?" 

"He did not die, Master Jinn. You did. It took all my skills, and those of others greater than I, to bring you back and we do not know how much damage will be permanent." 

The blanket of despair was gone. He could live, he could breathe - Obi-Wan was alive and that was the only thing that mattered. Except..."Where is he? Will he be here?" 

The Healer shook her head. "Obi-Wan will not be here. He believes you are ashes." 

"Why? How?" 

"How is simple. There were an abundance of bodies left from the battle. We used the Force to disguise one. Why will become clear in time, but for now it is best that only a very few know you live - or rather, that you have returned." 

"Obi-Wan can be trusted. I trust him with my life, my soul." 

"It is not for you to decide, Master Jinn. For now, all you must do is rest." She gestured to the young nurse, who injected something into him. "This will only aid your rest. I will return later." 

Qui-Gon watched her depart in a swirl of green robes. He could feel the medication drag him down and fought it, until the nurse laid another gentle hand on him. "Sleep, Master. It is hard work to learn how to live again." 

 

 

Obi-Wan woke up with a start. He saw him again, as beautiful and strong as he ever was. More so, because now Obi-Wan knew him for beautiful, when before he only knew him as Master. 

He was having these dreams every night now. Each night, Qui-Gon came to him, more and more clearly. This night, he even thought he could hear him. What was wrong with him? Qui-Gon was dead. He'd seen him burn. 

Sleep was impossible. It took him hours to fall off in the first place, but once he'd had the dream, he was awake for the rest of the night and no good for his new work with the smallest children in the daytime. Frustrated, Obi-Wan threw back the covers of his bed, tossed on some clothing and went out into the night... a night nearly as starry as that one on that icy world. 

Resolutely he put the memory from his mind, refusing to allow it to surface. The effort was substantial and, to avoid the stars that were hindering it, he turned away from the outer hall of the Temple and began walking inwards, toward the center. 

There were no windows here, only the soft illumination of natural glow lights.They made the marble floors and polished stone walls shimmer. 

After a few minutes he noted, with sad - and amused - exasperation, that the flecks of green and gold in the stone caught the light in just the right way, at certain levels and angles. 

And twinkled, like stars. 

Putting both hands to his face, he shook his head and muttered, still walking, the Force wide open, leading his steps as he followed, unquestioning. 

His feet hit the floor softly, the rhythm soothing. 

Not truly aware of the passage of time, half-asleep as he walked, rubbing at his face and eyes and shoulders at odd intervals, it wasn't until he reached the main intersection of the large hallways that he stopped and looked around. 

Vaguely he wondered how he'd gotten there. 

Suddenly his face ached, and he raised both hands to rub at it, then stopped himself. 

His face didn't hurt. 

Neither did his head, or shoulders. 

Yet there was a ghostly ache - almost an echo - spreading through them. Then it eased and he could feel its absence as clearly as he had felt its presence. 

"I am losing my mind," he said softly into the echoing vastness of the hallways, deserted at this hour. 

Turning slowly in a slight circle, on his heel, he opened himself as far as he could welcoming the Force into his mind and heart, pleading with it to lead him to peace. 

There was danger in this, in calling to the unknown, but he felt so alone, cut off from the Jedi, his mind faltering under the burden of solitary existence... 

If there was anything out there that could help, he wanted it. Needed it. 

With a whisper of response his call was answered, but by the one voice he would never hear again, except in dreams. 

[Padawan...come to me...I need you...] 

"Master..." Turning in his circle, he spun faster, arms outspread, cloak lifting with the Force. [Where are you, Master, I will come, I will come...] 

[Need...you...hurts...come.] 

Faster and faster Obi-Wan spun, until he was short of breath and dizzy and then, with a stunning loss of grace, he stumbled, and fell, hitting the floor hard, lying there, gasping. 

The voice was gone. 

"So is my mind," he said out loud. Then he shouted it, the words ringing off the walls. "SO IS MY MIND!" 

Lying flat on his back in the middle of the intersection, the marble hard and cold, sucking the warmth from his body, Obi-Wan began to laugh. At first quietly, and then loudly, great guffaws of desperate, pained humor torn from his soul. 

He hadn't lost his Master. He'd lost everything. 

The laughter trailed off to quiet, cleansing sobs. Rolling to his stomach, he pillowed his face on his arms and cried quietly. 

The change in the Force alerted him to the presence of another, but he did not move. 

It was just easier to lie there, sniffling a little, and hope that they, whoever they were, would go away. The Force signature wasn't anyone he recognized, but it was strong enough to be a Padawan or a Knight. 

"Can I help you?" A male voice, deep and smooth, and the heat of a hand hovering over his shoulder. 

"Time is the only help I can expect." Feeling a surge of anger that this man had intruded upon his grief, Obi-Wan released it almost as soon as it rose. He was, after all, having his breakdown in a public place. 

Strong but gentle hands turned him and he looked up, seeing dark curls and the bluest eyes. 

The man wore not the robe of a Jedi, but the plain, rough tunic and trous of a healer. But there was no trim to his tunic, no sign of rank. 

"You're -" Obi-Wan had to swallow, his throat dry, "-you're not Jedi? You are very - gifted - in the Force." 

A smile flickered on the masculine face. 

"There are many ways to serve the Light Side. This is mine." 

"You're a nurse." Figuring it out, Obi-Wan relaxed into the hands that helped him sit. 

"And you're in pain." 

The statement was so blunt, so blatant, that the Jedi couldn't even draw breath to protest it. 

He managed a shrug. 

"Tell me about it." The nurse offered, sitting beside him, settling cross-legged, looking as if he could wait forever. "My name is Aribl, and I would like to help you." 

"I'm - Obi-Wan. Kenobi. I was Padawan to Master Jinn..." He trailed off and blinked fiercely as tears threatened again. 

"And now he is lost to you." Aribl nodded. "You seek him through the night? It would be better to rest, and let him come to you." 

"Rest? My Master is dead. I cannot rest."As soon as the harsh words left his mouth, Obi-Wan regretted them, but the nurse seemed unaffected."He can't come to me. He no longer exists." 

"Not the way you think, perhaps, but I am absolutely certain that your Master still exists, Obi-Wan Kenobi, and that he seeks your presence as desperately as you seek his." 

"He called me." Twisting to look into those bright eyes, Obi-Wan spoke quickly. "I heard him. He said he was hurting, and that he needed me. I have to find a way to go to him." 

Large hands, the backs of which were sprinkled with dark hair, clasped over Obi-Wan's and held them tightly. 

"I am losing my mind, aren't I?" Obi-Wan said conversationally, shocked by his own words. "When the bond broke between myself and my Master, when he died in my arms, I felt something break inside me. And it's something that can't be fixed, isn't it? 

"Everything can be fixed, if you have faith," Aribl said, with affectionate sternness. "You must trust the Force." 

"It has betrayed me." 

"You must Trust the Force," Aribl repeated. 

Unable to answer, Obi-Wan was silent for a time. Then he pulled his hands free and the nurse did not object. 

"You do not think I'm going insane? Or that the Dark Side is calling me?" 

The blue gaze was steady and insistent."I know it is. You would never betray your Master by turning, no matter what the reward." 

"Not even to get him back," Obi-Wan agreed, sighing and deflating. 

"Go to your quarters." Standing, Aribl reached a hand to Obi-Wan who took it, staring at him. 

"Sleep, in his bed if you must." 

He tugged and Obi-Wan rose to his feet, shaky from sitting so long, cold from the floor. 

"Let him come to you, however the Force allows." The nurse, whom he now realized was shorter than himself, and stockier, touched Obi-Wan's cheek gently with his fingertips, the same place Qui-Gon had touched as he died. 

Unlike the touch of Apina's hand, days earlier, this was a blessing. A benediction. 

"You-" He caught his breath and exhaled slowly, reaching for control that came easier now. "You believe that he will?" 

"I know it," Aribl said softly, drawing his hand away. "Go now." 

As he walked away, gaining strength with each stride, Obi-Wan felt those blue eyes watching him, until he turned a corner. It was only later, when he was almost to the rooms he had shared with his Master, that he realized that Aribl's blue eyes bore a strong resemblance to stars. 

 

 

"No! Get that thing away from me." Qui-Gon fought for calm. "In fact, get your self away from me." 

The nurse stepped back, startled, still holding the syringe in her hand. "You are in great pain, Master Jinn. This will ease it." 

"It will put me in such deep sleep that not even a disturbance in the Force could wake me. I refuse it. I will bear the pain." 

"I cannot disobey the Healer." 

"Then summon her. Now." There. His voice was as calm as ever. The nurse ran out of the room, still carrying that drug in her hands. 

He lay back upon the bed. He would only have a brief time alone and conscious. He willed the pain in his chest, in his body, as far back as he could. He could not get it to the level he no longer felt it, but at least it would not interfere greatly. He then forced his mind to stillness and reached out to Obi-Wan yet again. 

Obi-Wan, I am here. I need you, Obi-Wan. Come to me. Hear me, Obi-Wan. I am here. Long before the Healer arrived, he was exhausted from the twin efforts of controlling the pain and of sending his thoughts. He could not even tell if Obi-Wan had received them, although he felt something that made him think some might have reached their target. If only he could sense Obi-Wan as he had before. 

What little strength he had was gone. He collapsed back onto his pillows, covered in sweat and beginning to shake as his control all but left him again. He closed his eyes. He would control himself. He was a Jedi knight. 

As he lay there, no longer able to exist solely inside his mind, he became conscious of more than just the pain in his body. He could feel the softness of the sheets, the weight and heft of the blanket. Outside in the corridors, he could hear voices murmuring and over all of it was the smell of the infirmary - drugs, illness, and above all, disinfectants. 

There were no windows in his room. He couldn't tell day from night, nor one hour from the next. This was almost the worst part of his confinement. It was as if nothing existed outside this place.

They told him this was for security - that if he had a window, he could be seen, and that only those with special clearance could even enter his room. He might as well have been in prison. 

The door opened, and the Healer walked in. This time, the elegant robes that swirled around her were dark maroon, emphasizing the porcelain of her skin. "You frightened your nurse, Master Jinn." 

"I would prefer Aribl to be my nurse, Healer Estern." He had to force himself to speak above a whisper. 

"Aribl is our best, which is why we assigned him to you, but he has to sleep. As must you." 

"Soon, my Healer. When may I see my...Obi-Wan?" 

Estern shook her head. "The time is not right. You are not healed enough, body or soul." 

"I need to see Obi-Wan. I will not rest, I will not take any drugs, I will do nothing until I see him and he knows I am alive." 

"It is not in my hands, Jedi Knight." Her cool eyes looked straight into his. 

He returned her gaze. "The council has decided that he is to be kept in ignorance and grief? I can feel his grief, Healer. It is very far away, but it is there." 

"I cannot talk about the council. I can only do as they tell me." 

"Then I wish to speak to the council. Surely they know I live." He was ashamed to see he was clenching the blanket in his fists. He forced his hands to open and lie quietly, but moments later, they were holding his covers again. 

"They know, Master Jinn. I will talk to them. But you must sleep now. Allow me to administer the sedative." 

"I will not take it." Drawing on the Force as strongly as he could, he forced the syringe in her hand to fall to the floor and break. 

He nearly blacked out from the effort. 

As he lay there grasping on to his consciousness, he could hear her run into the corridor and shout for a cleaning device and a communit. Moments later she returned and cleaned the floor herself. She carefully rearranged her robes when she finished her task and stood. 

"I have sent for Aribl. Perhaps he can help if I can not. He will be here shortly." 

"Thank you, Healer." Qui-Gon could feel himself relax with those words. She nodded and, in a swirl of maroon, left the room again, closing the door behind her. 

Qui-Gon found himself wondering why just hearing that that young nurse was returning gave him such comfort. There was something about him...he was clearly an empath, a valuable skill for his profession, but there was more. 

 

Aribl...he knew that name. It had been a minor event - one of the most promising padawans of a generation had quit his Jedi training in the middle to enter medicine. The council had been divided. Only because the boy's Master had spoken for him had he been permitted to do so. 

So the nurse had the ability to be a Jedi and the calling to heal, plus gentleness and strength of will. No wonder Qui-Gon drew comfort from his very presence. 

As he lay there musing, two men entered his room. One was Aribl, with rumpled curls and a disappointed expression on his face. The other was a tall man with short dark hair and clear blue eyes in the robes of a Jedi knight. He stood with his arm protectively draped over Aribl. 

He looked familiar. "Je-Sma? You were in my covert negotiations class, were you not?" 

The man nodded. "Yes, Master. Had I known it was you, we would have been here earlier." 

"How is it that Je-Sma can be here and Obi-Wan cannot?" 

The two men exchanged glances, then Aribl turned to Qui-Gon. "He and I are bonded. There is nothing one of us knows that the other does not. Je-Sma is often, too often, away on missions, so it was deemed safe for him to know. Also, he is a stubborn man and would not let me come here on my own." He gave Je-Sma a fond smile. 

"I have just returned from a journey, Master, and Aribl, who would work day and night if he could, had just come home mere hours ago." 

"My apologies, then." 

"My love, will you stand outside for the moment?" Je-Sma nodded. He dropped a very small kiss on Aribl's head and left the room. Aribl pulled a chair up to Qui-Gon's bedside and took his hand gently. 

"You are in great pain, Master Jinn. We can ease it." 

"Until I see Obi-Wan, I will not be put under. You would feel the same way if...it were Je-Sma." 

Aribl closed his eyes to concentrate. "I can sense something growing, but it's thin and fragile." He opened them again. "You do need him, and he needs you. I feel the hurt coming from both of you. Master, if I were permitted, I would rouse him and bring him to you immediately, but it is not up to me. Perhaps if I were more courageous...At least let me ease what I can of the pain myself." 

"There is too much, young nurse. You need your strength for your work and your bondmate." 

Aribl smiled and then appeared to concentrate. Slowly Qui-gon felt the pain drain away from his own body until it was only a shadow, while the nurse's beautiful face became drawn, with white lips and narrowed eyes. Almost immediately, the Jedi knight ran into the room and pulled their hands apart. He enfolded Aribl in his arms and held him. 

Dimly, Qui-Gon could sense Je-Sma lending his own strength to his partner until, with help, Aribl could stand again. 

"Sleep, Master. The pain will return but will not wake you. I will plead on your behalf." 

"And you?" Qui-Gon felt himself begin to drift. 

"I will care for him, Master. Do not worry." Je-Sma's voice was the last thing Qui-Gon heard before falling asleep. 

Alone in his quarters. 

Sitting in his chair - the one across the table from his Master's chair - Obi-Wan pondered the concept. It was almost a meditation, but he refused to let himself sink into it as deeply as his mind desired. 

There might be peace in meditation, there might be healing. But, as well he knew, one had to want to be healed. 

If this pain was all he had left of his Master, then he would embrace it, make it his own. 

As he had been his Master's, so would his Master's death be his. 

Pushing back from the table, he stood, rubbing at his eyes. His ear felt cold, no longer tickled by the braid that had hung behind it for so many years. 

A Jedi Knight. 

They expected great things of him, he knew, though the Council tried to hide it. All of the questions of Anakin's future, all the possibilities, he was now responsible for them. 

The way Qui-Gon had been responsible for Obi-Wan's. 

He had lived up to that potential, realized those possibilities, or at least the beginnings of them, but now he stalled. On the verge of his life, the life he had always wanted, unable to step over that threshold and live it. 

Alone. 

It wasn't like Anakin wasn't there, but even the first tiny tendrils of the teaching bond made his stomach curl when he touched them, and sent his unruly mind searching blindly, blithely, for the touch that should have been there. 

Closing his eyes, he wandered the main room between the two small bedrooms, needing no light to see them. 

As happened more often than not, he opened the glass doors to find himself on the small balcony, and looked up at the night sky. 

The lights of the city-planet made the stars hard to see, but he didn't have to see them to know they were there. 

Just as he didn't have to touch the bond to know Anakin was in his head. 

The boy was adapting quickly, he should be thankful for that. Joining in his classes with enthusiasm, catching up faster than expected. 

But still he needed to be in the creche, with the others his age, to learn the things they didn't teach slaves, things like how to be a person. 

For so many things children were the best teachers. 

And they slept when they were tired. 

Sighing, dropping his eyes form the unrevealing sky, Obi-Wan paced the room again. Sleep came fitfully at best, and he dreaded another night in his cold bed. He didn't have to be alone. If he called her, Apina would come. She would forgive, and comfort. 

The last thing he wanted right now was to touch another. 

The very thought made his skin crawl. 

There was only one touch he craved, mental or physical, and he had rejected it years ago, unknowing. 

Ignorance was no excuse. He hadn't even considered it, and the fact that his Master had not pushed now said more to him than any explanation could have. 

Whatever he wanted, Qui-Gon had given him. Love, acceptance, comfort, and then freedom. 

And he had repaid it by throwing that love back in the older man's face, choosing instead to dally with women he didn't care for, and to profess his love for someone he could now barely stand to see. 

Each circuit of the room took him a few steps closer to his Master's bedroom door. 

All of his things were in it, everything he owned that had not been on his person when he died. 

Despite urging, Obi-Wan had failed to clear it out and claim the slightly larger room as his own. 

When Anakin became his Padawan officially, which could be any time in the next few months, he would have to do that. 

But for now it remained, a silent shrine to his failure. 

Stopping now before the door itself, he pushed it open with a touch of the Force. 

The bed was made, the desk cleared, the wardrobe tidy. 

So like his Master. 

With a sigh of resignation he walked in and lay down on the bed, scarcely disturbing the wrinkleless spread. 

Perhaps if he slept here he wouldn't feel alone tonight. 

 

 

Qui-Gon used the Force to toss the tray of food across the room. The effort cost him more than he would have liked, but it made a most satisfactory mess. 

"I will not eat until I can see my...until I can see Obi-Wan. I have told you all that." And keeping his voice calm took even more effort. 

Estern's face, as usual, was without expression. "If you do not eat, we will find other ways to feed you." 

"I will sabotage them. You know I can." He looked at her and at Aribl. 

"What would you have us do? It is not up to us to tell Obi-Wan." 

"Talk to the council, then. It was important for them to bring me back from the dead; surely it is important for them to keep me alive." 

"Healer, perhaps we should do as Master Jinn says? He is no longer healing." 

"I will not permit us to be blackmailed, Nurse, no matter how important the patient thinks he is." She cast one more look at the mess on the wall and swept out in a flurry of dark velvet. 

Aribl picked up the cleaning device that now remained in Qui-Gon's room and began taking care of the smashed tray. "She is in charge of your case, Master. I can no more go against her wishes than I can go against the council's." 

"Do you know where Obi-Wan is?" 

"Yes, of course. He's teaching now, until his Padawan is ready for training." 

"He's in pain. I can feel it, even without the teaching bond."Qui-Gon found himself clenching his covers as he said those words. 

Aribl's full lips narrowed. He stood still for a moment, his cleaning task done, and then nodded. "He hurts. He's been told one thing by the people he trusts most in the universe and he senses something else. The contradiction is tearing him apart. I shouldn't be telling you this." 

"But you are." 

He nodded. "Because your lack of knowledge is impeding your healing. Healer Estern is one of the best physicians and surgeons we have, but she doesn't recognize the mind as playing a role." He bit his lips. "The council is wrong. Whatever their plan is regarding you, this is wrong." 

Aribl was clearly distressed at saying that. He ran his fingers through his curls and paced. "I don't know what to do, Master. I can't go against the Healer or the Council, but if I don't, we'll lose two of you...three of you because no one else will train Anakin. Even Je-Sma can't help me sleep at night. Tell me what to do, Master Jinn." 

"Follow your heart, young nurse. What does it tell you?"Qui-Gon knew he wouldn't have to say more to him. 

"I...I'm not permitted to leave you, Master. Not unless you eat or accept medication." 

"I will accept neither until my former Padawan is here with me." 

Even if it means my death. 

Aribl looked at him at that thought. "Please do not do so with me around, Master Jinn. I will do my best." 

Qui-Gon nodded. He had faith in the young man's sense of right and wrong. 

"It seems, Master Jinn, that you are causing a small disturbance in the Force." Qui-Gon looked up. Estern, her face something less than impassive, had entered the room. "You have a visitor." 

A small figure in Jedi robes followed her in. "A problem you have been, Qui-Gon." 

"It is good to see you, Master Yoda." 

"Leave now you may, Healer and nurse. Alone to talk we must be." 

"I will think about what you said, Master Jinn." Aribl touched his hand before he left, making the pain slightly less. Estern said nothing as she followed him out of the room. 

"Aribl is he not? Great loss he was. Great problem you are, Qui-Gon. Why?" 

"Why are you lying to my former Padawan? He is grieving for no reason." 

"Lied we must. Secret you must be for mission we now plan. Recovered you must be for mission." 

Qui-Gon looked at his former master. "What mission? Why must I be a secret even from him?" 

"Calm you must be. Anger danger is. This I taught." Qui-Gon fought to recover calm. When he did, Master Yoda continued. "A Sith there is. Killed only one was. We must this other Sith find before he an apprentice takes." 

"Of course. How do I fit?" 

"Living he does not know you are. Look for you he will not. Him you will find, him you will remove. Recover you must, so eat you must, and take your medications you must." 

"Let me talk to Obi-Wan." 

"Know Obi-Wan must not. Danger to you and plan would be. On this mission, go Obi-Wan must not." 

"Why not?" 

"He Padawan has. He responsibilities has. He...not working well is." 

"No?" 

"Not sleeping is. Not stable is. Not ready to be Jedi was, but Jedi is. Grow he must, alone. Do this you must, alone." 

"He isn't stable because he senses me, Master. He knows I'm alive, and believes I am dead." 

"Sense you he cannot. Bond broken was. Died you did." 

"Master Yoda, there is another bond. Use the Force and look at me." Qui-Gon did his best to lay quietly in the bed, steeling himself for the intrusion. Yoda's mind burned even at the lightest touch. 

"Wrong this is! Unauthorized this is! Permission you had not! This broken must be." 

"Which one of us will you kill this time, Master Yoda? This bond just happened, which means it's not under my control." 

"This...much thought needs. Kill we cannot and will not. Tell Obi-Wan...about it we will think." 

"If you want to do your mission..." 

"This blackmail is. Counterdeal...this mission you will do, and if survive you do, tell Obi-Wan we will." 

"And if he loses his mind before then?" 

"Risk we must take to Sith Lord remove." 

"No. I'm not willing to risk this. Think, Master Yoda. With this bonding, if I die, he dies. If he goes insane, I go insane." 

"Bond weak is. Break it we may." 

"And it may not kill Obi if I die now." 

"Impasse this is. I to council will talk. Trouble you are, Qui-Gon. Trouble you both are." 

With that, he left the room. Qui-Gon barely heard him go. They were willing to risk Obi-Wan's life, Obi-Wan's sanity, even Anakin, for this mission. This was not the Master he loved or the council he served. This was a nightmare, and he was not showing any signs of waking. There was no one left he could trust...except for a nurse torn between him and duty. 

Suddenly, it and the pain were all too much for Qui-Gon. He could feel the control he'd been taught so strongly begin to slip. A single tear, one more than he'd shed in a lifetime, rolled down his face. Obi-Wan, I'm sorry. Nothing is right. 

Aribl returned soon after, to find him lying perfectly still, his eyes staring at the ceiling, his face wet. The nurse touched his cheek for a second but even that didn't ease the pain. 

 

 

"Kenobi!" The low voice of the children's section headmaster broke through Obi-Wan's Force-induced fugue and he snapped his head up, feeling his face flush and his eyes widen as he looked about his classroom and realized that his students were all gone. 

"Master Jer-Dae." Feeling the stiffness of muscles that had held position too long, he stretched carefully, trying to be discrete, and spoke quietly, not letting the panic that threatened take over. 

Wisely he said nothing more. A glance at the windows showed long shadows, meaning that he'd been lost inside himself for several hours at least. 

The last thing he remembered was setting his class to working a series of equations and that hadn't been long after lunch. 

"Your students have left for the day." Jer-Dae approached him. Slowed by age, his features were as sharp as his tongue, which Obi-Wan remembered well from his own early days here. 

"I must ask that you be re-assigned, Knight Kenobi. Your continuing distraction is harmful to the children. What are they to learn from a Jedi who cannot control himself? I don't know what the Council was thinking when they assigned you this position, you never had the attention span that a Jedi requires. Too easily bored, you are. An eternal adolescent." 

Although he had expected something like this, Obi-Wan was still stung by the words and the lack of compassion that allowed them. 

"My master is dead," he snarled, rising with a wince as his body protested. "Your petty jealousies aside, I cannot believe you would belittle my loss." It was a tremendous effort to keep his voice even and low; all he wanted to do was scream at the man. 

Scream at the world. 

At the galaxy. 

Or just simply scream. 

The desire to scream senselessly at the top of his lungs was new. He catalogued it as dispassionately as he could, still fighting for control, but distracted from his anger. 

It was almost as if he could feel another's mind touching his own, urging him to calm, offering him strength. Strength that mind did not have to spare. But the only other mind that had ever touched his had been Qui-Gon Jinn's... 

"KENOBI!" 

The affronted bellow from Master Jer-Dae brought him back to the present again. 

"What?" 

He blinked, aware that he had drifted again, but unable to see that it merited the anger and, yes, worry, he saw on the elderly man's face. A hand closed on his arm, more gently than he'd expected, and gave him a shake. 

"I should call the Healers," Jer-Dae said, quieter now. More thoughtful. "You were not prepared for the loss of your Master and I can see that it has affected you deeply." 

"How do you prepare to have your heart ripped out?" Snapping the words, Obi-Wan stepped out of that grasp, pulling his cloak tightly around himself. 

The cold inside him refused to be banished by layers of cloth and he had no warm thoughts to think. 

If starlight was cold, his soul was colder. 

"Reassign me. I am not prepared to teach right now." He managed to get the words out without choking on them. "Do not concern yourself. I will go to my quarters and meditate." 

It was difficult to walk straight, to stand tall, but he pulled himself together and did it, telling himself that if he didn't Master Jer-Dae would take him to the Healers no matter how he protested; he would lose even this hallucinatory feel of his Master, and he could not bear that. 

It didn't matter if it were real. All that mattered was that he felt it. 

And he would do everything in his power to continue feeling it. 

If this be madness, let me be mad, he thought sluggishly, walking the corridors to his quarters, aware of the glances, curious and concerned both, that he was receiving from the Jedi he passed. 

Once inside he felt immeasurably better, and made his way - staggering, stumbling, stripping his outer clothes as he went - to his Master's bed. 

Where acceptance failed, denial would serve. 

Falling onto it, flat on his face, he tried for a moment to breathe through the thick coverlet his nose was mashed into, but had to give in and turn his head to the side. 

This turned his eyes toward the window and he half-opened them, uncaring, and stared into the brightness of a Coruscant night, lights that hid the stars. 

He stared until he felt that touch again, and his mind reached for it, grasped, and tugged, pulling desperately, needing it to be real. 

He needed Qui-Gon, needed to feel him in his head. 

Instead the touch conspired with his exhausted, underfed body and he slipped into deep sleep, to be taunted by dream-images of Qui-Gon, who alternately condemned and rejected him. 

"I offered you my love, my heart, and you wasted yourself on women like Apina! Your purity, your innocence, those were for me, Padawan. For me. How can I love you now that they are gone? You're tainted, fouled by loveless sex and casual relationships. 

"You believed what they told you?! You believed the Council and ignored what your heart knew?! As long as you believe, I am truly dead!" 

With a startled jerk Obi-Wan pulled himself from sleep. The vision of Qui-Gon, looming over him, sneering down at him, held him pinned to the bed for long moments as his chest worked, lungs inflating desperately. 

There would be no rest tonight. 

Flinging himself upwards, he stumbled and fell when his feet hit the floor. He landed badly, catching himself on his hands and elbows, biting back a gasp at the sharp pain. 

A knee cracked sharply against the night table. 

Gathering himself, reaching to the Force, which responded sluggishly to his call, he got himself upright and then had the courage to take a step. 

It worked, so he took another. 

One foot in front of the other... 

Thinking nothing at all, knowing that he had to follow this call or die trying, risking losing his very mind if he did not, Obi-Wan left his quarters and began walking through the Temple. Aimlessly, seemingly without purpose. 

But his heart, and his mind, followed a call that was too weak, too soft, whispered in his cells, for anyone else to hear. 

"Master Jinn, you must rest." Aribl was pale. His mouth and eyes were clenched in pain as he held his patient's hand. Qui-Gon could feel the pain leave him while strength trickled in. "You must let me give you medication so you can rest." 

He shook his head. "I will not, young nurse. My health, my life, are my only bargaining chips. I will see Obi-Wan. I must." 

"And if you do not? Will you die because of your stubbornness? Will you let the lie become the truth?" Aribl wrenched his hand away for a moment, and the pain and weakness came rushing back, forcing Qui-Gon to collapse further on his pillows. "This is what you would feel if I let you alone. You would not heal, you would just weaken until you die and allow the Dark Side to win." There was true anger in the young man's voice. 

"They will not risk losing me. Need...me." Qui-Gon could not speak above a whisper as he fought against his own body, as he used what he had to call Obi-Wan to him. "Kept me...alive." 

Aribl took a deep breath and closed his eyes briefly. Qui-Gon could sense him reaching out to the Force. Then the nurse took his hand again, and he could do more than exist. 

"Where do you get your strength, young Aribl?" 

"Je-Sma, my lover, is lending me his now. My own...will recover with sleep and food. As would yours, Master Jinn. I cannot be with you at all times. I will find a way to bring Obi-Wan Kenobi to you if you do as you must." 

"I will not have you risk your future - or the health of Je-Sma. I will...survive. Let me be, and they will bring my Padawan." 

Aribl managed a smile. "I am an empath. This is what I need to do. Je-Sma understands. But he, too, wishes you would have a care for your health." He sat back with a jerk. "He is here. He hears your call. He, also, is in pain." Aribl's face became pure white. "I can feel him twice - both as him and through your bond." 

"Bond? Our bond is broken. Aribl, please, let go. You are about to faint." The young man was sweating and breathing heavily. 

Instead of letting go, Aribl seemed to reach further inside himself. Qui-Gon realized he was drawing even more from his lover. "Master Jinn, you have a bond. It is new yet and fragile, but it is a true bond, such as Je-Sma and I share. A bond between lovers." He gasped. "He comes. If I see him, I will have to report him. I'm sorry, Master Jinn. I must leave." He released the contact and ran out of the room. 

Bond? What was the boy talking about? Qui-Gon steeled himself against the return of his pain. Dimly, he was aware that he would die again soon and that it might be too late to stop it even now, but he pushed that, too, to the back of his mind. Instead, he probed delicately for the new bond Aribl claimed was there, and he found it. 

It was barely a thread. He carefully sent a thought across that fragile, silvery bridge and there he found Obi-Wan. The pain in his...bondmate's soul was greater even than that in his own body. He nearly recoiled back into his own mind. 

This should not be. It took the will of both to make a lovebond, and he would never forget that cold starry night when he learned that Obi-Wan would never feel as he did. How could he have forced this on him? Did his desperate cries create this travesty? Yet he could not bring himself to break it, even if he had the strength. He did all that he could...he retreated back to his own mind and lost himself in his pain. 

 

 

Hesitating in an intersection, turning once again, indecisively, Obi-Wan cringed when the call in his head suddenly became somehow stronger. 

For a moment it was powerful, rushing through him, with the unmistakable signature of his Master's presence, and he keened softly, clutching his head with both hands and staggering. Somehow he did not fall. 

Then it faded again, only now it was even softer, so faint and far away that he had to strain to touch it. 

Obi-Wan was afraid. Had it all been a dream? A sense-memory of his Master, fueled by loss and guilt and anger? 

Or had the older man been trying to contact him from beyond the Force, and finally given up when his Padawan did not respond strongly enough? 

"Oh please...." He whispered to the air, pleading with no one and anyone. "Please. I must find him." 

After a few more moments he could breathe again, but he did so tentatively, afraid that the very sound would distract him from the faintest flickering of the call that he now felt. He would follow it, to the shores of the Coruscant Sea if he had to. 

There was no way to tell what he would find at the end of it, but he had to answer that call - whether it seemed to want him to or not. 

He moved through the gathering shadows; the lights here only half-lit, many burned out altogether. This was not a section of the Temple used frequently. 

If he was going to find his Master - he clung to the belief that his Master was calling to him, from his deathbed or the grave - he would go anywhere, and do anything. 

Unaware of the passage of time, he realized, belatedly, that he was being led out of the bowels of the Temple. Climbing yet one more set of wide stone steps, at this level slightly moistened with damp, he surfaced in a hall he recognized, the quiet sounds of the Healers and the hospital momentarily distracting him from the connection. Startled, he snatched at it desperately, and wondered when it seemed to pull away again. 

So many things I wanted to tell you...only I didn't know I wanted to. 

The thought made his head hurt worse and he was reminded of the other, more probable explanation for his recent behavior. 

He was going slowly insane. 

The tiny tremble of connection shivered and then expanded in his mind, and he felt the welcome, and the pain that filled it. It was easy, now, to turn toward that and walk down a hall, take a left, walk down another hall, ignored by the two young Healer apprentices that saw him, and turn again, coming to a stop in front of an ordinary door. 

The welcome swelled and he opened it, stepping into the room with his eyes closed, truly afraid that the room would be empty, unable to bear the thought... 

The door swung shut behind him, automatically, and he held his breath. 

 

 

Try as he might, Qui-Gon could not ignore the pain of one he loved so much. He had to touch that bond and let Obi-Wan know he was still alive, to guide him to his room. He knew he'd be sending his own pain with the message, but it couldn't be helped. 

He could feel Obi-Wan approaching. Closer now. I'm here, my Padawan. Yes, that is the door. Open it. Let me see you. Yes! 

The door opened. There he was, his eyes closed, breathing hard. Qui-Gon, weak beyond anything he'd felt before, just lay there waiting. 

The young man's eyes opened. "Master? Is it really you?" He rushed to the bed and grasped Qui-Gon's hands. 

"Yes. It is I." 

"They told me you were dead." Obi-Wan sounded like he was choking back sobs. He was pale, and far too thin, with dark circles under his eyes. 

"I seem to have recovered." He tried and failed to speak above a whisper. "What of you, my pad...you are not my Padawan any longer..." He looked at the place where Obi-Wan's braid used to be. 

"You will always be my teacher, my Master. Why did they lie to me? Why didn't you send word? I thought...I thought I was going insane!" 

Qui-Gon barely felt the additional pain as Obi-Wan gripped his hands. "I had to do it. I had no choice. I am sorry." 

"Sorry for what, Master? It is all worth it now, now that I know you are alive...every dream, every night...all of it." 

"You don't know?" Qui-Gon sighed. "Look into your mind. Is there something new there?" 

Obi-Wan closed his eyes. "Something...yes. A thread of Force, like our old bond but thinner and in a different place." Qui-Gon felt the touch of Obi-Wan's mind. "You are on the other side. I don't understand, Master." 

"It is my doing. When I called you, I must have forged a new bond - the bond I wished for years ago. I know you do not welcome such a bond...we can...we can break it now." A fresh surge of soul pain caused him to gasp. To his shock, not all of the pain was his. 

"Master? Then you do not forgive me?" 

"Forgive you? What have you done to need forgiveness?" Why was Obi-Wan so close to tears? 

"All those women...Apina...I knew how you felt, yet I not only rejected you, I flaunted my loves in front of you. I'm sorry. I was wrong to hurt you like that. I was wrong to reject you...I love you, Qui-Gon Jinn." His eye grew wide and he sat down on Aribl's chair abruptly. 

Qui-Gon's heart leaped, and then fell again. "You thought I was gone. You watched my body burn. That is all. And now you feel relief. It is not love. As for your loves...it made me happy to see you happy. You never picked anyone unworthy - Apina is a fine Jedi. There was nothing to forgive." 

"No. Master...Qui-Gon...you have a bridge to my heart. It has grown sturdier as we speak. Use it, see what I truly feel." 

He probed the site. Yes. It was stronger - a braid instead of a thread. He touched Obi-Wan's mind and was overwhelmed by all the emotions there, emotions a Jedi should control but Obi-Wan wasn't controlling them. There was fear and anger, and guilt and pain, but above all there was love, and that love was not only directed at him but it echoed his own. Obi-Wan did love him, and in the way Qui-Gon had tried to make himself not desire. 

"Master, all the time I thought you were...you were dead, I kept thinking about you. I left Apina's bed because it was wrong, because while I loved her, it was not the way I should have. And you were gone and I couldn't tell you this, tell you that I'd been lying to myself all these years. You were gone, and I was alone and I'd would always be alone." He swallowed and made himself sit upright. 

"Obi-Wan?" 

"I'm sorry, Master. Forgive me. This is unseemly, unbefitting a Jedi." 

Somehow, Qui-Gon found the strength to reach out his hand to touch the other man's face. "It is only the truth of how you feel. It is far more seemly than the council's outright lies." 

Obi-Wan touched the hand on his face gently and then began to stroke it. "Even this small touch feels so right...We will confront the council. Tell them they are wrong." He continued to stroke his Master's hand. "If only you were well, I would show you just how much I love you." He smiled. "I can't seem to concentrate on anything else. I'm sorry." 

"No more apologies. I will strive to become well now, so that you may show me." Qui-Gon smiled. "Already I feel stronger." He blinked. "I cannot do this. You are weak from lack of sleep. I cannot take your strength." 

"You can take anything. My love. All I am is yours." He tightened his grip. Qui-Gon could not take it away. "But you are tired. And you must sleep. I will come here again." Hesitantly, he bent. Qui-Gon felt Obi-Wan's lips lightly brush his face. "Get well, my love." 

Obi-Wan left the room. Qui-Gon felt himself begin to drift off to sleep naturally for the first time in days. As he did, he felt a soothing presence enter, and gentle hands brush his forehead. The last thing he heard before he drifted off was Aribl's rich voice telling him to have sweet dreams. 

 

 

"Hey! Padawan Kenobi! The Council is -!" 

The shouted warning of the Jedi Knight stationed at the main door of the Council Chamber was oddly neutral in its inflection, despite the irregularity of the interruption. 

With his robes flowing, the air around him crackling with barely suppressed energy, the angry young man threw a glance over his shoulder and replied flatly even as he pushed open the big door."I am no longer a Padawan," He told the Jedi, whose name he did not at this moment recall. Inside the door, every eye turned upon him, a circle of Knights and masters in the center making their reports and the Council itself staring, and he finished the sentiment loudly enough to be heard by all."And I am no longer subject to your every whim!" 

Striding to the center of the Chamber, head held high, anger firmly in check, he scarcely noticed the way the others fell away before him, making way. 

"You have not been summoned." Eeth Koth, who had been directing the questioning of those present, spoke mildly, but there was no doubting his displeasure, or that of the others. Mace Windu's face was set in a forbidding dark mask. 

Qui-Gon had always told Obi-Wan that he, and they, had an ally in the slum-born master, who had become a Jedi by the barest of margins. 

There was nothing of encouragement on his face at this moment. 

Taking a deep breath, Obi-Wan forced his voice to remain even and his heart to beat steadily. 

"I have been lied to, Master Koth. I have been hurt and left to suffer. Would you have me make an appointment to discuss this?" 

"Found him, you have." Master Yoda thumped his cane once, and the sound was dismal. "Foresee this I did not." 

"You are a knight now, Obi-Wan Kenobi." Windu spoke slowly, every word meant to lend weight to the next, making it clear that that title, which Obi-Wan had worked for so long and hard, might be at risk if he continued. "Your one-time Master is no longer your concern." 

"Go back to the Dark Side!" The words were snapped with utter contempt, and not even the Jedi Council members could quell a visceral response to this childhood taunt. Windu flung his head up, nostrils flaring, clearly fighting the urge to respond in kind. 

"I was misled and left to suffer, and why? My Master suffers, and why?!" Unable to prevent the rise of his voice, Obi-Wan cut himself off and took a deep breath, staring at the floor momentarily. 

In the silence of the Chamber, a room that oozed power, he heard the faint whisperings of cloth and boots as the others made their way toward the door, to escape this shameful scene. 

"Young, are you." Yoda's frustration filled the air, as powerful as anything else in the room. "To know, you did not need." 

Following the dictates of the Force without thought, Obi-Wan dropped to his knees where he stood. 

His voice quavered with suppressed emotion and closely-help pain. 

"I need." 

The silence swelled. 

With his hands limp at his sides, his head bowed, completely submissive, Obi-Wan reached for the new bond, and opened it wide. 

Someone - he couldn't quite tell who, but it sounded like Master Depa Billaba, the most recently joined Council member - gasped softly, and Obi-Wan let her feel the bond, which grew in strength as each moment passed, feel the love and trust that composed it. 

And the pain that had so nearly strangled it. 

"We did not know, Kenobi." Adi Gallia sought to comfort him. "There was no sign of a bond." 

"The young healer said something." Windu steepled his fingers in front of his face, unhappiness deepening. 

"Broken, the bond was," Yoda snapped. "Exist then, this bond did not." 

"Because I denied it once, a long time ago." 

Obi-Wan's whisper was loud, echoing sibilantly off the plasteel and tile."I was young, and foolish, and I denied my heart." 

"And your Master kept his own counsel, as is his habit." Sounding irritated, as he often did when Qui-Gon was the topic, Mace left the sentence hanging in the air. 

"What was he supposed to do, inform us?" Not recognizing the wavering voice, Obi-Wan tilted his head just enough to get a glimpse of whoever spoke so disrespectfully to Master Windu. 

With his extended neck crooked, Master Yarael of Quermia seemed to be scolding Windu, but Obi-Wan did not dare risk looking to see the other Master's response. 

"I have no doubt that he approached his Padawan as the Code dictates, and that he accepted the rejection honorably." 

"Accept, he did. Too well." Again Yoda sounded exasperated, but fondly so. "So well he hid it, see it we did not. Separate them, we would not have." 

Shifting on his knees, Obi-Wan felt a sudden restlessness seep through him. The source was murky and he did not want to be rude to the Council by going deeper into himself to search for it, though it nagged at him... 

"They are bonded." Billaba spoke up firmly. "The separation cannot be continued." 

"Our plans for Master Jinn cannot be delayed," the military strategist Oppo Rancisis objected. "This opportunity will not present itself again." 

The restless feeling intensified and Obi-Wan found himself half-rising, unaware of the action until it was almost completed, casting out with his mind for the source, which suddenly seemed urgent. 

"A battle cannot be won by a dead soldier," the one-eyed Even Piell argued, but Obi-Wan barely heard the words. The wide-open bond was shrinking, contractng, fading from his grasp, and he lurched to his feet, reaching for it with desperation, his body mimicking his mind, knowing that his mate was in danger, that he was weakening... 

"Master!" He shouted, startling the Council members. 

"Kenobi, restrain yourself!" Windu snapped, and would have continued, but was interrupted as the door to the Council Chamber was unceremoniously shoved open for a second time, and the Healer Aribl stumbled in, looking drawn and pale, hair clammy with sweat. 

"Qui-Gon Jinn is dying!" 

Windu looked stricken. "Are you positive, Healer Aribl?" 

"Of course I am. I am a Healer and an Empath. Look at Obi-Wan - he seeks to be with his mate." 

Obi-Wan could hear nothing after the word "dying." Unable to leave, he collapsed on the floor. He felt Aribl's arms around him. "Soon, Obi-Wan, soon." 

"We need him alive."Windu's voice was almost pleading. 

"After you kill by keeping his bondmate away?" The remaining council members gasped at the nurse's audacity. "I can help them. I can help them both. But it must be now. And I need your help." He lowered his voice. "Obi-Wan, I will need you most of all." 

Obi-Wan nodded and tried to stand, but his legs would not hold him. "I'm sorry, Aribl..." 

"It's all right, Obi-Wan." Somehow that gentle hand calmed him again. Then Aribl turned to the council again. "Master Windu..." 

Next thing Obi-Wan knew, he was lifted in a pair of strong arms, with no more effort than if he'd been a child in truth. He struggled briefly, but another touch from Aribl allowed him to subside. "Where shall I take him, young healer?" 

"We must go to Master Jinn's room now." Aribl paused briefly. "I have summoned my own bondmate. He will wait for us there." 

 

 

It didn't take long for them to reach the Temple and then Qui-Gon's room. Obi-Wan recalled almost nothing of the trip. All of his thoughts revolved around his Master and the bond between them. Once they arrived, he felt another pair of strong arms take him and settle him on the bed. 

Qui-Gon lay beside him, his eyes closed and his face pale. When Obi-Wan tried to reach him in his mind, all he felt was pain and weakness and a sense he could only call "leave-taking." "Qui-Gon, no! Not when I just found you!" He barely realized he'd spoken the words aloud. Lacking the strength to do more, he rolled to his side and held his Master's arm to his body. 

He heard Aribl only dimly. "Master Windu, you may remain here, but you must not interfere with anything we do. This is Master Jinn's only chance." 

"I do not understand, young healer, but please, do what you must to save Qui-Gon. I will remain." There was a note in Master Windu's voice that Obi-Wan had never heard before, but he could not think about it now. 

Then Aribl was touching him again. "This is good, Obi-Wan. I want you to open yourself as much as you can to Master Jinn and also open yourself to the Force." Concentrating, Obi-Wan did as he was asked. He was aware of the fifth man in the room, who had to be Je-Sma, Aribl's bondmate, doing the same. 

Aribl's physical touch disappeared. Obi-Wan felt something immensely powerful and yet somehow gentle contact him. It asked him to draw power and channel it through his bond to Qui-Gon. This he did and gladly, keeping none for himself. The draw became more and more powerful and he was hard put to keep up...and then for a moment it faltered. 

For that moment, Obi-Wan despaired. Then a new mind joined them - one strong but familiar. There was more power now. He could feel it being used, he could now sense Aribl's efforts to take care of both the body and the soul of his patient. 

And then he felt it change - all the pain and confusion was suddenly gone and Qui-Gon was no longer trying to say good-bye. In fact, he was pouring love and happiness down the bond. And at that moment, he felt a surge of strength and then the power draw stopped abruptly. 

Something...somebody...fell to the ground. He opened the eyes he didn't remember closing in time to see Je-Sma scoop an unconscious Aribl up from the floor and cradle him in his arms. Obi-Wan jumped from the bed, as did, to his surprise, Qui-Gon. Je-Sma nodded gratefully and put his bondmate in their places. He sat beside him on the bed and stroked the young man's face, oblivious to all else. 

Master Windu looked at the pair on the bed with awe. "He Healed you, Qui-Gon. I have never seen the like. He used the Force and his own energy to bring you back from near-death. I was there, in the circuit. I felt him use everything he had. And what little remained when you were Healed he gave to Obi-Wan." His voice was very quiet. 

Qui-Gon seemed to be examining himself. "I feel as if I had never been injured. I, too, have never seen anything similar. He is a loss to the Jedi. He would have been the best of knights." 

Je-Sma looked up. "No. My bondmate's ability is only to Heal. To use it for anything else would be to destroy it and him." And me. All heard those unspoken words. 

"Will he recover, Jedi Je-Sma?" 

"Yes, Master Jinn. He just needs to rest for a few days. As, I think, do you. You may feel strong and well, but your body needs to adjust to health again." 

"You've done this before, young Jedi?" 

"He has, but never to this degree. I can only help." 

"Let us leave these two alone, then. I will find both of you quarters away from prying eyes. We must still preserve your secret, Qui-Gon. And you both must complete your bond. And Master Jinn must rest." He removed his robe and gave it to Qui-Gon, who drew it on over his short gown and used the hood to shadow his face. Shyly, Obi-Wan took his Master's hand as Windu spoke briefly into his communicator. 

Windu put his communit away and led them out of the hall to a part of the Temple Obi-Wan had never seen before. 

It took some time, which worried Obi-Wan. And there were other urges rising to the surface. He needed to be alone with Qui-Gon. Finally, there was a room door open ahead. A figure scurried away at their approach. Master Windu gestured for them to enter. 

The room was beautiful. It was lined with bright draperies and filled with comfortable furniture and art. There was a large meal set up on a table, under a stasis field, and beside it was a huge bed covered in pillows and brocades. There were windows, too, looking onto a starry night sky. 

"Thank you, Mace. It is you who are responsible?" Qui-Gon sounded happy. 

"Yes. You deserve this. You both do." 

"Windows, Master? Is that safe?" 

"They are projections, but of our own skies. A First Night deserves stars. Be happy, and may the Force be with your bonding." 

He bestowed one last smile and left them alone. 

Unable to help himself, Obi-Wan stared at the door as it closed behind the Jedi Master. 

"Obi?" 

Standing very still, Qui-Gon seemed to be drawing into himself, regaining his famed reserve, and the younger man frowned as he looked over his shoulder and noted it. 

"I'm sorry, Master, but I admit to being confused. I have always been under the impression that Master Windu does not approve of you." 

A low chuckle drew his complete attention from the door and he turned, smoothly, reaching a hand to Qui-Gon, only to have it caught gently, lifted to warm lips and nuzzled. 

"Mace was my dearest friend for many years and he has yet to forgive me for choosing my own path. Our friendship perseveres, though not in a form everyone recognizes." 

With the softness of his Master's lips moving over his skin as the older man spoke, Obi-Wan just barely registered the words. 

"Master..." With an audible swallow he stopped himself and chose another name to use. "Qui..." The single syllable fell so easily from his lips that he marveled he had not said it before. Of course the other man felt this through the wide-open bond and was amused by it. Then Obi-Wan was drawn close to a broad, heavy chest, and held there with all the strength of love. 

"It goes well, Obi, as we do. We have no need of titles or endearments." 

"No word could say what I'm feeling right now." He agreed, tilting his head back and looking up, seeing that Qui-Gon was literally glowing with the Force that flowed through them both. 

He wondered if he looked the same. 

"Indeed you do." Both large hands framed his face as the stare was returned. "Together we rival the stars." 

The first kiss was sweetness embodied, which slid quickly into aching hunger. 

As soon as his Master's heart started beating double-time Obi-Wan pulled away slightly, with a frown that was softened by his swollen mouth, testing the bond as he spoke. 

"You should rest. You are only newly healed." 

"Rest is not at the top of my priority list, Obi." Roughly-but-gently he was manhandled to the big bed, which was dressed with fluffy blankets and linens in several shades of green and blue, softly streaked color and thick comfort. 

Once he had Obi-Wan flat on his back he lowered himself over the younger man, on his elbows to prevent squashing him, and they resumed kissing. 

After several minutes Obi-Wan was gasping, but enjoying the lightheaded feeling, and the weight of his Master above him, and the hot rod of flesh that was pressing so suggestively into his belly. 

"Clothes," He said firmly when they broke to breathe, and Qui-Gon seemed to agree, using both of his hands and the Force to strip himself while Obi-Wan did the same. Then they were naked, their bare skin pressed together, and he moaned helplessly, hands traveling eagerly, wantonly, wanting to touch and feel all of Qui-Gon, thrilled and excited by what he found. 

Their cocks pressed together when his Master shifted higher to hold his head for plundering, and he bucked up, wanting more, hands scrabbling over broad, muscular shoulders. 

"Obi, Obi, Obi..." Qui-Gon chanted between kisses, breathed into his ear. "Perfect Obi." 

"Not," the younger man gasped, struggling to keep up. His Master seemed to have gained a world of experience in the past few days, experience he had never suspected."Not perfect..." 

For as long as he had known him, Qui-Gon had been strictly celibate, as far as Obi-Wan knew. When he was younger there had been a few brief discussions on responsibility and the care and keeping of a lover, but he had never known his Master to act on that advice. 

"Perfect for me." Pushing himself up, Qui-Gon gazed down at him with an expression that could only be described as sappy. "And that makes you perfect." 

"Master..." Sighing, Obi-Wan shelved the argument. "You're going to tire yourself out." 

"What do you want?" The question was purred with dark intensity and Obi realized he was being distracted from his worry. "Tell me what you have done, what gives you pleasure." The steady rocking motion of the narrow hips into his made answering almost impossible. 

"Ungh..." Thoughts tumbled unregulated and he snatched one at random. "Nothing, Qui. Nothing with another male." 

It was the truth but only now, in these circumstances, did he find the will to question this decision he did not remember making. 

Had he avoided male lovers because he had not wished to hurt his Master further? 

"Because you wanted -" Qui-Gon moaned and reached for him, wrapping strong arms around him using his size and leverage to roll them over until Obi-Wan was on top. 

"Because you wanted me to be the first!" He exulted, the truth laid bare in Obi's teeming mind. 

"Yes." Realizing it, accepting it, Obi-Wan felt the urge to sing, or scream. Of course! "YES!" 

Then reality intruded and he slowed their movements, Qui-Gon allowing him to do so reluctantly, and looked down at his lover, kissing him tenderly, scattering touches over his weathered face. "But not at your expense," He whispered, serious now. "I would not weaken you further." 

"The only way you could hurt me at this moment would be to deny me." Closing his eyes briefly to feel that tenderness, Qui-Gon opened his eyes and they shone hot with desire. "I will not hurt you, Obi." 

"I know that." With a welcoming smile and saucy wiggle, Obi-Wan pushed himself up to his knees until he straddled his Master. "This will be easier on you." 

Sitting carefully, he felt the heat of Qui-Gon's erection press into his crease and shuddered, moving against it. 

"This way." His master's hands slipped between them and a single long finger explored that private place. Obi-Wan leaned back, lifting his hips, eager, asking for that intrusion. 

"Gently, gently," Qui-Gon murmured, speaking perhaps to himself. With a touch of the Force sheathing it, the first finger slipped into Obi-Wan up to the knuckle and his shivers increased, the sensation delighting and filling a need he hadn't known he had. So careful was his Master that he felt no pain at all, only the depth of their connection echoed inside of him. 

And he yearned for more. 

"Please..." Panting, he rocked, taking the finger deeper. In answer to the almost-silent plea Qui-Gon used his other hand to stroke and tease the erection that stood out proudly from Obi-Wan's body, begging for that touch. 

"Slowly, Obi, slowly." With more care than Obi-Wan perhaps wanted at that moment, the finger was pushed deeper, and he felt his body open to welcome it, to welcome any part of his Master that cared to join him. This led to a second finger and a hot rush of liquid fire to his groin and deep-chested, throaty moans that tore themselves free of his waning control. 

Forcing his eyes to open at least halfway, he stared down at his Master, his lover, and the fire blossomed into something more, something too powerful to be contained. It made him ache deep inside, a pain that did not hurt. It only wanted. And wanted. And wanted... 

"You." 

The word spilled from him on another groan, this one threatening to take his soul with it. "Please, Qui, you." Even begging had an attraction; it made Qui-Gon's nostrils flare and his heart thump and his body twitch, all which made Obi-Wan want him more. "Please, you," He repeated shamelessly. 

"One more." Abandoning his fiery cock, Qui-Gon used his free hand to spread the cheeks of Obi-Wan's ass wider, working a third finger in, generously coated with nothing more than the Force, and where had he learned to use it like that? 

"Ready..." Rising on his knees, tilting his hips back wantonly to give access, Obi-Wan clutched at the chest beneath him, watching his sweat drip onto the smooth skin there. 

He wanted to lick it off. 

"Just -" Qui-Gon caught his breath and moaned as Obi-Wan did just that, laving a hard nipple and closing his mouth over the area to suck fiercely. 

"Just breathe when I tell you," He managed to blurt out. 

Nodding, Obi didn't protest as he was carefully arranged, sitting up straight on his knees, pelvis thrown forward with a gentle tug on his hips, both of Qui-Gon's hands on his ass, spreading him wide. The heat of Qui-Gon's cock pressing against his newly-awakened entry. 

"Deep breath," Qui-Gon gasped, waiting until Obi-Wan, dazed, complied. "Hold it..." 

They froze, neither moving, and then his hands tightened on Obi-Wan's hips and his words flowed over him like love. "Exhale, slowly..." 

As Obi-Wan breathed out, trusting implicitly in his Master's knowledge, the first few inches of that cock sank painlessly into him and he shuddered, impaled, feeling the older man fighting for control beneath him. All he wanted was one look, one visual taste, but when his eyes opened he couldn't close them again, the sight was too splendid to look away from. 

"Breathe..." Qui-Gon sighed, meeting his eyes. It was all there, in his eyes, in the bond between them, in his own eyes, Obi-Wan knew. And he breathed, and let the air whoosh out of him slowly, needing no prompting this time, and his Master entered him further. 

"Yes." With a sigh, Obi-Wan repeated the pattern, and at last sank to his knees, bottom pressed firmly to Qui-Gon's loins, and the circuit was completed. 

"Good?" Qui-Gon asked, hands roaming his body, caressing and stroking, finding all the little places that made him shudder harder as if he'd always known them. 

"Perfect." With a smile that couldn't last in the face of such powerful pleasure, Obi-Wan moved. Rocked his hips, forward and back, and moaned at the sensation. 

"Try this." The hands were back on his hips, urging him up, and he went reluctantly, not wanting to release the cock inside him, but then the hands were pulling him back down and it pushed back into him and he had to smother a scream by stuffing a fist into his mouth, shocked by the very urge. 

He never screamed in bed. 

"You do now." A quick, desperate chuckle, and then those hands were urging again, directing, teaching, and Qui-Gon's hips were lifting to meet the downward thrust and Obi-Wan was full, his body was completely, utterly filled and nothing had ever felt like this before. 

"Perfect," Qui-Gon muttered thickly, bending his knees, bringing his legs up for leverage, thrusting harder. 

"Yes!" Obi-Wan moaned, giving in to the rhythm, letting it dictate his movements, and his body knew what to do. Taught by a Master. 

The strokes were becoming regular, ending somewhere so deep inside him he didn't want to think about it, touching something that made him feel just unbelievably needy, and then Qui-Gon increased the pleasure by moving a hand to his cock and grasping it tightly, using just the right amount of pressure and there was no way a fist was going to stop this one. 

Hanging his head back, totally loose, Obi-Wan screamed at the top of his lungs, riding his Master home. 

At the peak of the wail his body betrayed him by clenching and then jerking helplessly, his seed rolling over Qui-Gon's hand to drip on the sweaty stomach, and his Master made a sound, an unreal sound, and Obi-Wan flipped his head over and looked at him just in time to see the big body arch up off the bed, head back, hands grasping, muscles springing tight like cables. 

The flush of new heat inside his own body was amazing and erotic and....perfect. 

The collapse was slow and mostly controlled, Qui-Gon reaching for him and pulling him down so that he could slump on the heaving chest and share the oxygen they were both trying to breathe, the cock inside him softening and slipping free with no fanfare, the relaxation of their bodies as welcome as the tension had been. 

"How..." The word was too thick to be understood; Obi-Wan swallowed and tried to wet dry lips with an equally dry tongue, found that there was another close by willing to help. 

It was not worn from screaming and soon the words could leave his mouth coherent. 

"How do you feel?" 

"Perfect." A purring chuckle accompanied another long kiss. 

"How do I feel?" 

"Like a star has fallen into my arms." 

"In other words...." Shifting slighlty, Obi-Wan closed his eyes and snuggled closer. "Perfect." 

"Oh yes." 

"And hungry." Lifting his head, Obi-Wan snickered as he made the accusation, Qui-Gon's stomach breaking the peace with its rumble. 

"Well, that too." Tightening his hold, the older man seemed unwilling to let him go. 

"Well, I'm sleepy." Settling back into the embrace, Obi-Wan seemed just as unwilling to leave. 

"No," Qui-Gon corrected, their bond warning Obi-Wan a split-second before he moved, swinging his legs off the bed, lifting the smaller man in his arms and carrying him toward the table where the food waited, protected by a stasis cover, sitting them both in a single large armchair with a soft grunt. 

"You're perfect." 

Obi-Wan opened his mouth and laughed, happiness flooding the bond. They ate together from communal plates, each helping himself, and they watched the stars in the window, which were none the less beautiful for being recorded, and somewhere in that perfect time, chewing thoughtfully on a piece of passion fruit he had stolen from under his Master's nose, Obi-Wan realized that he could almost hear the flickering pop of a campfire. 

And the silent song of the stars.


End file.
